


Let me under your skin

by Marishna



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Awkward Flirting, Claudia Stilinski Memories, First Meetings, M/M, Mentioned Laura Hale, Pre-Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Tattoo Artist Derek Hale, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-05 06:14:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5364521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marishna/pseuds/Marishna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was obviously uncomfortable and appeared incredibly out of place in Hale's Tattoos. He was tall and lanky with college kid hair, wearing a pair of khakis and a red hoodie over a t-shirt. A far cry from their usual clientele and Derek himself.</p>
<p>"Second thoughts?" Derek asked and the kid shook his head before launching off and basically storming across the floor like a goddamn wrecking ball.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let me under your skin

**Author's Note:**

> Written for enablelove on LJ who asked for _Teen Wolf - Stiles/Derek - tattoos :D_
> 
> I'm writing/making stuff for an advent calendar on my lj. See the entry here: http://marishna.livejournal.com/831677.html

Derek tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for his next client to show up. He wasn't late but he was cutting it close and Derek didn't like to be left idle for too long. If Laura were still at the shop she'd be rolling her eyes at him and his "murder stare".

When the bells tag the front door jangled Derek breathed out, " _Finally_ ", and slipped out from behind the curtain that separated reception from the work stations.

"You Stiles?" he called out as he made a check by the name in the bookings calendar without looking up. 

There was a long pause so Derek looked up and locked eyes with the guy standing by the door. He was obviously uncomfortable and appeared incredibly out of place in Hale's Tattoos. He was tall and lanky with college kid hair, wearing a pair of khakis and a red hoodie over a t-shirt. A far cry from their usual clientele and Derek himself.

"Second thoughts?" Derek asked and the kid shook his head before launching off and basically storming across the floor like a goddamn wrecking ball.

"You got my latest revisions?" Stiles asked, tone determined and Derek nodded. Stiles nodded back and that seemed to be that.

Derek jerked his head toward the back and led Stiles through the curtain to his station. The shop was usually closed on Mondays but Stiles made special arrangements with Derek to come in when he could. 

Once in the back Stiles shrugged out of his hoodie and dropped it on the floor by the chair. He stood and watched while Derek started getting his inks and gun prepped and seemed to relax by watching the process.  
 Derek glanced over at him a few times and couldn't help but feel like there was something about Stiles that was familiar. Probably saw him around town or something.

"I'm ready when you are," Derek announced a few minutes later. 

"How do I...?" Stiles asked, nodding to the chair as he fiddled with the hem of his shirt. 

Derek reached over and shoved the arms out of the way, offering something of an altered massage chair setting so Stiles could sit in it backwards.    
Stiles took a breath and stripped his shirt over his head, dropping it by his hoodie. Derek let his eyes get a look before Stiles settled into the chair, legs straddling the back.

"Fuck," Derek muttered under his breath at his body's reaction to the sight. It's not that he didn't see hot people come through here every day. He'd tattooed and pierced his share of genitalia and tits and various other things he thought little of once the customer left the shop. But those people _knew_ they were hot. Stiles didn't seem to, or at least didn't act like it. 

Apparently Derek had a thing for modesty.

"Just going to put the stencil on, then I'll have you take a look at it in the mirror so you know for sure this is what you want and where you want it," Derek explained as he laid the paper on Stiles' back.

"I trust your judgement," was the response and Derek cursed again in his head.

"I don't always trust my own," he replied neutrally. 

"Sure."

Derek carefully transferred the image to Stiles' skin where they'd discussed it, right under his left shoulder blade, behind his heart. When he was done he indicated where Stiles could look in a large folding mirror around the corner and absolutely didn't watch as Stiles disappeared to see.

He was gone for a couple minutes and the silence in the shop was loud in Derek's ears. He was used to the sound of buzzing and chattering, constant music from the shitty stations Erica kept the satellite radio tuned to in the front, clattering and clients and everything that distracted Derek from whatever he didn't want to think about.

"You okay?" He called out when the silence got to be too much.

"Yeah," Stiles replied shortly. When he came back to the chair his eyes seemed a bit red but Derek didn't comment on it. Stiles settled back into the chair and kept his head down.

"Ready?" Derek asked, putting on his gloves. Stiles nodded.

Derek started the outline of the tattoo, working quickly. He knew this work like the back of his hand by now because he and Stiles went back and forth on it umpteen times during their email conversations. It was nice to work with someone who knew what they wanted and gave criticism and input into his work, instead of asking for "a pretty flower" or a butterfly or tribal art. Who still got tribal tattoos in 2015?

He'd never asked in all their back and forth and now, seeing Stiles' reaction, it finally got to him. "So you like wolves?" 

Stiles didn't move in the chair but Derek could tell either the question or a break in the silence surprised him. It took a couple seconds and then he replied, "My mom really liked them. This is for her. She died ten years ago and I wanted to do something to mark it."

Stiles looked over his shoulder at Derek, offering a view of his profile and mole-speckled skin, and continued, "I'm terrified of needles but I figured this was worth it."

Derek raised his eyebrows and made an admiring noise. "That's commitment. Props to you."

They were quiet again and Stiles turned back to the chair but kept his head up and the angle of his neck, maybe the curve of his shoulders—Derek couldn't tell what—it was so familiar and felt like a word on the tip of his tongue.

"My parents died in a fire," he blurted out and this time Stiles did move in the chair. Derek lifted the gun in time to prevent any accidents as Stiles turned enough to look him in the eye.

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely and Derek felt it. Obviously Stiles "got" it. Doesn't matter if you lose one or both or more, deep grief like that was something you could see in other people's eyes.

Derek shrugged, his way of saying thanks, and Stiles turned around again. Derek shifted in his chair, moved closer and leaned in for some detail on the tattoo. His hand spread against Stiles' skin and ran across some of the moles that marked his skin there that was otherwise smooth, pale and flawless. 

He could feel Stiles' muscles move lightly under his touch as Stiles tightened and relaxed against the scratching of the gun. For someone who claimed to be terrified of needles he was one of the calmest clients Derek had ever had. 

"So what do you do, Stiles?" Derek asked hesitantly, for some reason wanting to fill the silence between them and maybe learn more about this guy.

"I'm a grad student at the moment, working on my thesis on forensic science with a specialization on cybercrime," Stiles explained.

"So you're a smartass," Derek shot back and he could tell Stiles was grinning.

"Some people would say so, yeah," Stiles said with a laugh.

"What are you going to do with that when you're done?"

"Come back here and work for my dad. He's the sheriff," Stiles explained. "Not a word about nepotism."

"Whatever pays the bills, right?" Derek replied.

Stiles sighed. "Yeah, bills. Using the last of the little bit of mad money I had saved up for this so I'll be facing up to those pretty quick."

"Guess there's not much room for a part time job on your schedule?"

"I did a couple odd jobs here and there, helped out a friend with something she needed me for but since I'm here working on my final paper I've had to give that stuff up," Stiles explained. 

Derek didn't comment but something about the way Stiles said what he did struck him weirdly. He thought about the moles on Stiles' back, on his face and how there was something so familiar about him.

Slowly Derek lifted the gun and leaned back in his chair, prompting Stiles to look over his shoulder. "Something wrong?"

"I've seen your ass," Derek replied, realization dawning on him.

Stiles sputtered and tried to make a convincing denial but his face was flaming red and he was tensing up away from Derek who realized and laid a hand on Stiles' back to try to calm him.

"Sorry, sorry! I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry. I didn't mean that the way it sounded."

"But you _have_ seen my ass?" Stiles asked with a snort.

"I mean... yeah. Sorry," Derek said lamely.

Stiles sighed and shook his head. "It's fine. I thought that since my face wasn't in any of the shots I'd never be recognized but I guess—"

"It was your moles, actually. That's what tipped me off. I just ... remembered. Um. From the magazine I remembered..."

"My ass?" Stiles finished for him and Derek let out a strangled sound. "It's fine. Unexpected, is all."

Derek grunted and got back to the tattoo, letting things be quiet between them until Stiles started talking again.

"My friend Malia needed help with a project for school and we used to date so she's seen me naked before. Promised they'd only be for her final. They were shown at a gallery and the art director for that magazine was there, said they'd be perfect for a feature. They offered me money on the spot for shoots with them. Couldn't say no to a semi-steady stream of money," Stiles explained.

"I have a subscription," Derek replied, then quickly added, "For the tattoos! A lot of people in that magazine have tattoos and I like seeing different work."

Stiles glanced over his shoulder with a knowing look but didn't say anything.

***

"Sorry about all that, again," Derek said later at the till while they were finishing up. 

Stiles waved him off while pulling out his wallet. When he looked at the amount on the pin pad he looked up at Derek, surprised. 

"Call it the embarrassment discount," Derek explained with a shrug.

"I'm not embarrassed," Stiles said.

" _I_ am!" Derek replied. "I hope this didn't change your mind about doing any modelling in the future."

Stiles shook his head. "Nah, I was done with that anyway. Besides, I'd have to cover up the awesome tattoo you just gave me and I don't think that would sit well with me. For a lot of reasons," Stiles said, meeting Derek's eyes. 

"So much for your modelling career, then," Derek replied lightly but he kept his eyes locked with Stiles'.

"Yeah, so much," Stiles repeated with a small sly smile creeping across his lips. "I guess you and I are the only ones who will see the tattoo... for now."

Derek raised an eyebrow. "Got no one else to show?"

Stiles shook his head slowly. "Not right now. Maybe sometime soon. See you around?"

Derek nodded. "Come back in a couple weeks so I can check out how the tattoo is healing."

Stiles walked backwards to the door while tapping his chin with his finger. "Do you make house calls?"

Derek grinned. "I could."

"Cool," Stiles said and in a blink he was gone, out the door with the bells clanging behind him.

Derek stared after him, feeling dazed. "Cool."


End file.
